Showing LOBO salesmen the door

Another council insider, David Green, adds more on the website Room 151 to the sorry tale of the LOBO debacle after watching the recent Parliamentary Select Committee investigation.

He recalls as a former local authority treasury management officer, how the LOBO salesmen who pitched these toxic loans were sent away by his director "at the earliest opportunity".

David writes "Having worked for a local authority, a money broker and now an independent treasury adviser, I have seen LOBOs from many angles.  

I know that when our brokers and advisers visited me as a junior council treasury officer, the initial low interest rate looked superficially attractive.  But I also remember asking what I would be charged for a plain fixed rate loan from a bank, and on finding that it was much more expensive, I gained some idea of the value inherent in those options".

The most damning comment is towards the end 

"And in retrospect, I really can’t imagine a local authority treasurer asking for a loan whose rate stays fixed if market rates fall, but whose rate can rise when market rates increase, in what was called a lose-lose situation at the Committee".

Check out my previous posts on the LOBO scandal and most importantly - what can Councils and Housing associations do about it here, here and here.

(about picture - LOBO is Spanish for "Wolf". Quite an apt name I think) 

48 hours to save London from Boris

Busy day, like many Labour activists I got just a little bit wet this morning delivering the last of our local ward leaflets.

I also thought that my time was finally up when I opened the garden gate of a terrace house, which had its front door slightly open. Once the gate closed behind me, the largest Alsatian dog known to man came charging out of the house barking furiously. I managed to make a very rapid retreat and ran out into the pavement and closed the gate behind me. As I did, I still thought I was doomed since the wolf was absolutely bloody enormous and could have easily jumped over the gate (or rather stepped over it).

However, it stayed in the garden, barking happily, obviously very pleased with itself for protecting its pack and lair from intruders. There was occasional semi-humanoid bleating noises from inside the house about “Rex – shut up” or something like that.

After work I spent part of the evening ringing up ward organisers and Party members trying to make last minute arrangements for tomorrow evening and Thursday.

Actually a lot of the hard graft has been carried out by our “Scottish Organisers”. Many, many thanks for their hard work and support.

I dropped off UNISON plastic bags full of Labour “eve of poll” postcards to volunteers on the way home. Had a conversation with a Party supporter and family (who also had to protect me from their family mutt) who were just incredulous that Boris had any chance of becoming mayor.

Many people think Boris is such a joke that he will never be elected. I gently remind people that in Hartlepool they elected a Monkey as a Mayor.